Saving Milly

Saving Milly

Most folks didn’t think that Mort and Millicent’s marriage would go the distance. Mort was a moderate Republican. Millicent was a fiery left-wing Democrat. Over the years, they began to drift in their marriage. It wasn’t that they fell out of love. They were just too busy pursuing careers.

Millicent became a psychotherapist working with patients suffering from neurological disorders such as Parkinson’s disease. That’s how she knew something was wrong that day in 1987. She was signing a check and couldn’t finish her name. She noticed a tremor in her little finger and a wobble in her left foot. Millicent was terrified. After tests were run, the news was devastating. Not only did she have Parkinson’s disease, it was the most virulent strain.

She called Mort and told him to get home right away. He found her holding a bottle in her trembling hand. “This is Parkinson’s medicine!” she screamed. “It’s a horrible disease. I won’t be able to walk. I won’t be able to talk. I won’t be able to eat. I’ll be totally dependent on you.” Her body racked with sobs. “You won’t love me anymore. I know that you will leave me.”

“I will never leave you,” replied Mort. But Millicent wasn’t convinced. She knew the statistics. More than 50 percent of husbands leave wives diagnosed with Parkinson’s, and she was sure Mort would do the same. At that moment, he had to make a life-altering decision. He knew that Parkinson’s victims became completely dependent on their families. If he became a caregiver to his wife, it would derail his career.

You may recall Morton Kondracke, who was the cohost of Fox News channel’s The Beltway Boys. His rise in the media had been meteoric: ten years as a panelist on the PBS news program The McLaughlin Group, senior editor of the New Republic, Washington bureau chief of Newsweek, columnist for the Wall Street Journal and the Washington Post, and the most sought-after talking head on prime-time television.

In his book Saving Milly, Morton Kondracke wrote, “At that moment I made the decision to change from careerist to a caregiver.” For seventeen years he devoted himself to caring for his wife. Eventually Milly was unable to walk or talk, and finally she was unable to swallow. Mort had to feed her, bathe her, and clean up her messes. Mort desperately prayed for Milly. As he spent less time in the newsroom and more in Milly’s bedroom, he cried out to God, “What’s my purpose here?” A simple answer came back: “Take care of Milly.”

When Milly died on July 22, 2004, Mort’s career was finished. He had been out of the game too long. But he would tell you that those years he gave to Milly were worth far more. Careers pale in significance to the care we give loved ones. If you put your life on hold to do what Mort did for Milly, let this encourage you during those often exasperating and thankless hours:

Careers will fade in importance and soon be forgotten, but heaven’s applause for caregivers will last forever.

The Son of Man is going to come in his Father’s glory with his angels, and then he will reward each person according to what they have done.

Matthew 16:27, NIV